The IOU
by Judes
Summary: It is Christmas, 1969 and Carolyn is trying to decide on the right present for Captain Daniel Gregg.


_**All the characters depicted in this story are the property of 20th Century Fox and or R.A. Dick/Josaphine Leslie. I make no money from this little tale. **_**_Thanks to Mary for the beta._**

**The I.O.U.**

Judy

Captain Gregg flung the ends of the long, bright red scarf around his neck.

"This will do fine, children. I've never had a scarf as colorful or as warm as this. Thank you," he smiled.

"You're welcome!" Candy said, glad the spirit liked the present.

"And hey, Captain," Jonathan informed him, "you can wear the scarf up on the walk when the wind's blowin' real hard. Like maybe a sou'easter!"

"Or you can wear it on the balcony or at the beach!" his sister added with a clap.

The ghost heartily agreed. "Yes! Those are all perfect places, and I shall keep my gift safe and well guarded against others who might have an eye out for red knitted scarves as fine as mine."

He winked at their mother, and Carolyn Muir smiled back at the handsome spirit who humored her children as she sat comfortably next to the hearth. In her lap was 'Slugger,' the baby boy her landlord had found in his car the night before on Christmas Eve. She cuddled him closer content to enjoy the family scene.

Despite having a little stranger in the house, this was indeed a happy Christmas. Carolyn couldn't wait to give the Captain his last gift, but the early hours in the parlor with the children present was neither the time nor place to do it — a more private setting was called for, possibly later in the evening.

So, sitting there in her favorite chair, Carolyn wondered if the Captain expected a gift from her. She hadn't expected anything from him and so far he had only expressed Merry Christmas to her with a nod. That was all right. Carolyn firmly believed a gift exchange between them was completely unnecessary for what he gave to her of himself was more than she could ever hope to expect to give him in return and she hoped he knew that.

Yet, contrary to her belief that gifts were simply not required between them, she found it difficult to adhere to the idea and instead felt compelled to find the Captain a wonderfully special gift from the heart. And once she began her search to find the perfect gift, she was surprised at how the effort left her emotionally ragged. One day the solution finally came and when it did, she was immensely relieved.

Prior to her solution, the pursuit of a unique gift had run from one discarded idea to another. She had ruled out anything for him that could be eaten, smoked or drank as she had catered to the Captain's savory senses before. In fact, Carolyn was still amazed by his consumptionatory habits and cataloged them as highly unusual for a ghost, perhaps even suspect. She distinctly remembered the occasion he had polished off a slice of Martha's cherry pie without having any after-effects at all. And there was the handsome supply of tobacco she'd given him for the pipe he so enjoyed, and of course, she would never forget the box of cigars she gave him upon completion of an article they had worked on together. He had adoringly smoked each cigar as if it were the purest summit of ecstasy, and between each puff, she recalled, a sip of Madeira had not been far behind.

So what was she to do? How could she please him? There was no one to ask for advice on the matter of gift giving for a ghost except perhaps Seaman Applegate — and heavens, she didn't want to call on him! No, the predicament had made Carolyn aware of just how much she didn't know about the spirit-hood, and this made her even more determined to find out as much as she could. Nevertheless, it was a full two days before Christmas that Carolyn had realized what her perfect gift to the Captain would be. Immensely relieved, she began to relax into the holidays, which brought her to where she sat now on Christmas day, with the family in front of the fire on a crisp, snow-laden morning.

"Captain?" she got his attention where he rested on a stool across from her.

"Yes, Mrs. Muir?"

"I wanted to let you know you're not quite finished receiving your gifts."

"There's more?" he asked. "What I have received is more than anyone could ever have hoped for." He glanced at the children and saw their smiles beaming his way.

"Yes, I agree what you've received is wonderful, " Carolyn said, "but there is more. You see, I have a gift for you, too, but I want to give it to you later when there's a little less… activity," she explained subtlety hoping he would get the hint.

The seaman understood and nodded. "Ah, I see… well, splendid, Madam! But you shouldn't have."

"Yes, I should have, and I have, but you'll have to wait," she winked from her overstuffed chair.

"Of course," he nodded again. "The wait can sometimes be a gift in itself," he remarked and when he eyed Carolyn again, he shivered, rather like having an electric charge stream from his top'sil to his bildge. _By the powers,_ he thought, shaking his head to clear it, _just being near Carolyn was affecting his state of affairs! _Her wink just then sent him barreling toward a complete meltdown! He shivered again and shrugged his shoulders thinking it was nonsense, of course! Ghosts don't shiver. Ghosts were ghosts, not lovesick schoolboys with sappy, wringing wet palms.

He gulped from the lingering sensation, closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, hoping in earnest that Carolyn had not noticed his upset. He then promised himself a good stiff drink later, perhaps a Brandy to reset his particles, and by God he'd moor himself to the bottle if he had to! On second thought, he envisioned an alternative, a breezy stroll on the walk might take care of the problem quicker.

However, when he opened his eyes and saw Mrs. Muir in front of him, he decided that at this time of year the walk was a devilishly cold berth and at the moment, his position by the fire seemed the far better place to be. He belonged here in the midst of his family and all their raucous noise on Christmas morning. And as he sat by Carolyn's chair, looking at her to his heart's content, he noticed that she did not mind his scrutiny at all. Aye, there was no greater gift he could ever want.

Then as babies often do, Slugger began fussing and rubbing his face into Carolyn's chest. She studied him and knew what to do.

"Ah, the poor little guy's hungry again," she cooed. "Are you hungry, Slugger?" She cradled him in her arms, his hands and mouth still searching. "Martha!?" she called loudly to the kitchen hoping his bottle was ready. "I think someone's hungry!"

"Just coming, Mrs. Muir! I'm coming! I know…" the housekeeper rushed into the parlor, her heels clacking on the floor, "…babies can't wait!" She handed a warm bottle of milk to Carolyn then retreated back to the kitchen. Carolyn then, expertly pulled the little silver and ivory rattle from the baby's mouth and in one swift move inserted the bottle's nipple.

The Captain's brow arched at this maneuver and he watched the toddler take to the bottle ravenously, the baby's suckling wholly satisfying. Carolyn caught the seaman's interest and smiled sweetly in return.

"Captain, would you like to take a turn?"

"What!?" He asked engrossed in the feeding.

"Would you like to feed Slugger?" she clarified amused.

"Oh, feed him!" he answered relieved.

"It's really not that difficult. I'll hold him if you like and you can hold the bottle. Or you can hold him and the bottle together."

"Oh, no, Madam," he blustered with a hand up. "You're doing splendidly, the very picture of motherhood. I am content to watch. Riveted in fact." Captain Gregg swallowed hard and reminded himself of the Brandy, a very large one was in order at the first opportunity.

"Captain? Are you all right?" Carolyn asked seeing him wipe his brow. "I don't think I've ever seen you sweat before."

"Oh, am I really sweating? Getting a bit warm is all. Probably my new scarf." He promptly unwound it.

"You know what I think? I think you've never held a baby before. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Do I have to answer that…on the grounds it might incriminate me?" he grinned.

Carolyn's eyes widened, perhaps he had held a baby before. Then again, she didn't want to know.

"No, you don't have to answer," she replied. "I just wondered that's all." A moment or two went by and Carolyn asked, "I haven't embarrassed you, have I? It's not anything to be ashamed of, not ever holding a baby." She noted he looked uncomfortable. "And Captain, you're still flushed."

"Am I? It's the fire no doubt, Madam."

"Probably so," Carolyn smiled focusing again on Slugger.

"Aye," he agreed, the fire coming from the heat I'm feeling inside! A finger into his collar let out his discomfort as he watched Carolyn blot milk that dripped from the bottle. As she lay the towel down, Captain Gregg saw the rattle roll from her lap to the floor. The rattle's tinkle reminded him of the Dickensian dream he had orchestrated for the family as a Christmas gift the night before. He retrieved the heirloom and held onto it tight as if his very afterlife depended on its existence; its importance yet to be acknowledged.

Despite the pleasant image in front of him, the Captain's disappointment grew with regard to the family's recollection of the dream he had give them for Christmas. As yet, none of the Muirs or their housekeeper had spoken of his gift and he could only conclude that the baby's presence had something to do with it. Perhaps the youngster's intrusion was stalling their recollections until the mystery of the baby was resolved. The real fear was that his Christmas dream might have already disappeared from their memories and that pulled at his heart like an anchor thrown over.

Captain Gregg hoped the dream had not been forgotten for his holiday treat to the Muirs had been an entertaining one and for all of his efforts, the endeavor had gone extremely well. He admitted to being exhausted soon after the dream for a great deal of the night was spent cruising their bedrooms and house hopping to Claymore's place so that the holiday dream was unique to each person. And though most of the night had been spent pampering Carolyn, as was his prerogative to do, he knew that attaching his nephew to the dream would add the perfect spice.

Still it was early hours yet, but the Captain did feel his Christmas dream was a gift as yet unopened. He would not however, under any circumstances, force the Christmas memory from the Muirs by asking leading questions. The truth was, that life always won out and he could not fault the Muir's nor any other human for choosing the warmth of reality over myth. There was still time.

As marvelous smells emanated from the kitchen indicating breakfast was nearly ready, Carolyn and the children still had not made mention of the dream. The matter was perplexing to the Captain to say the least. Surely he had embedded the dream into their consciousness to last. He couldn't believe they were afraid to speak of the dream, could they? All of the Muirs be reticent at the same time? It didn't make sense. There wasn't a jigger of anything in the dream that anyone should be ashamed of.

The Captain mulled over the idea of paying a visit to Claymore to see how he was getting on after the dream though his greatest desire was that soon Carolyn might remember a part of her dream. Her role had been the exception. It was within the parameters of her emotions that he had worked the hardest. In other words, in her portion, he had lodged every hope he had ever harbored for them if they had been real lovers at Christmas. He had found the courage to verbalize every word he had ever wanted to say to her — aye, it was all there in the dream! With unprecedented candor, he had given her his heart, his love, and solemn intentions! Absolutely no one had been that welcomed or seen that far into his soul before. And he knew, by heavens, that if time had played out differently, he would have asked Carolyn to marry him, just as he had done in the dream, and he was positive she would have accepted. By the New Year, they would have been husband and wife, as they should have been — living and loving. But did she remember any of the dream? Even a fraction of it?

Not long after the family ate breakfast, Claymore Gregg, dressed in his holiday finest, burst into Gull Cottage and touted himself to be a new man. Under one arm, he carried a stuffed bear for baby Slugger and under the other a sufficiently large turkey for Martha to prepare for dinner. Claymore then proudly declared that in his newfound state, he might adopt Slugger and 'will' the boy all his worldly possessions. Mrs. Muir and Martha had no idea what had possessed Claymore to act in such a way, and between chuckles wondered whether Claymore had been imbibing for such indulgent generosity toward others was quite unlike him. Carolyn, however, knew that deep down, Claymore was a gentle soul and so took him at his proud word.

When everyone began to move to the parlor, Martha pulled Mrs. Muir aside near the kitchen door. The housekeeper recounted to Carolyn the most extraordinary happening telling her that Claymore's arrival had spurred memories of the strangest dream from the night before — a dream in which Claymore had arrived at Gull Cottage in much the same way, however, she and family were living a hundred years ago and Captain Gregg was alive too. Martha then shook her head laughing and decided that too many helpings of mince pie had kept her imagination fired up too long into the night.

Feeling a peculiar wave of deja vu wash over her, Mrs. Muir too, after hearing of Martha's dream, began to feel the stirrings of something strange that happened the night before. She shifted Slugger to her other arm and considered the boy closely.

In the meantime, Captain Gregg, though he did not show it, was thrilled with Claymore's remembrance of the dream and moved along with him to the parlor for his arrival framed the perfect opportunity to find out if the Christmas dream had been successful. Obviously, Claymore had been affected by the dream as he had taken to heart the Captain's bitter lessons on stinginess, finding the grim reality of greed to be both unsavory and unprofitable, which thereby explained his generous nature that morning.

Captain Gregg was further delighted when his nephew spoke of the disgusting gruel he had to eat which thereby triggered young Jonathan into recalling his own dream in which, under the Christmas tree, he had found lots neat old-fashioned toys. His sister Candy, too, chimed in saying she had a dream in which she had received a beautiful old-fashioned doll. Captain Gregg smiled, at once joyously relieved.

Shortly thereafter, a ringing phone interrupted the family's recollections. Martha, being the closest, grabbed the phone in the foyer and after hanging up, quickly relayed the message that Slugger's mother would soon be over to pick up her little boy and that at the tree lot, his big brother had put him in the wrong car by mistake.

As Claymore sighed at the loss of his potential heir, Carolyn smiled at the baby and bounced him on her knee. "Oh, that's wonderful. Did ya' hear that Slugger? You get to go home!"

And Candy, who recalled the orphaned baby in her dream, cheerily stated her wish, "Mother? In the dream we got to keep the baby."

Carolyn not only felt pity for her daughter, but for something else vaguely remote that she couldn't put her finger on. "Darling, some things are only possible in dreams," she said, as a cache of images from her own Christmas dream came alive. This surprised her. Cuddling Slugger a little closer, to feel his 'realness,' she gazed briefly at the Captain before pushing several romantic images to a deeper, more remote place to save and analyze later.

Carolyn found though, that certain images refused to go below decks. She recalled that she and the Captain had kissed not once, but twice and though their embrace had to have been unreal, she had felt like crying when his final kiss on the porch seemed as real as she could ever have imagined. And she now knew that the Captain had answered her question of the night before with his solemn winter wish. His 'best Christmas' that couldn't come true was the dream, and of course, if time hadn't spun out of control, the Captain would likely have been her husband for as long as they both would have lived.

Carolyn blushed at the thought. The Captain had asked her to marry him and with all her heart she had agreed. She speculated that if the dream had been real, by New Year's they would have been sitting by the fire as man and wife! Only that is...if time had been different!

Then Carolyn couldn't help but wonder if the Captain had been serious about his marital intentions or had the dream merely been an amusement for holiday's sake, albeit a charming tale spun merely to entertain her family? She must find a way to ask.

Slugger began to fidget in her lap so Carolyn opted to move outside to the veranda to await the boy's mother. She looked down at the wooden porch slats, knowing she stood on the very spot where the Captain kissed her the night before. She shivered and closed her eyes, but the reminiscing did not last long.

An obliging young woman with dark hair in a neat flip arrived and quickly thanked the Muir family for their kindness. Rather abruptly, and before Carolyn could manage another word to her, the baby was back with his mother in her car heading for home. Carolyn sighed, she would miss the little one who had been such a integral part of her holiday dream. Stepping in and closing the front door, she turned her energies toward helping Martha in preparing the Christmas dinner.

The feasting began when Martha's beau, Ed Peavey arrived, and by nightfall, after many games with the children, scads of good conversation, music and several rounds of coffee and mince pie, Carolyn finally headed to her room after she saw Candy and Jonathan to their beds. She had wished the Captain could have joined in the festivities downstairs but he had discreetly stayed aloft as he said he would.

Then, with the door open and her hand on the knob, she saw that the beautiful wooden cradle she had laid Slugger in the night before was now gone. She guessed that while activities were going on downstairs, Captain Gregg must have returned the piece to the wheelhouse where it would likely sit untouched for another hundred years.

She hadn't even been aware there was a cradle until the night before, and when she first saw its polished wood and lacy-white dressings she was sure the cot had been transplanted to her room from a fairy-tale, it was so lovely. Where had the cradle been all these years? She wondered. Countless times she had scoured the attic for its deepest treasures, and never once had she seen the cradle nor could she fathom how she could have missed such a big thing! Had the Captain intentionally kept the cradle hidden in some other place — away from her? Had he kept it hidden from himself? Perhaps its presence was a nagging reminder of what would never be, and by no means could Carolyn blame the seaman for this reaction to a life cut short. Quietly, she changed into her nightclothes and with her big chair beckoning, she sat, hugged her knees and stared into the darkened hearth waiting for him to come. Christmas downstairs was over but, Christmas in the main cabin was about to begin.

While waiting, Carolyn wondered if before the cradle was stowed away, had it been prominently placed in Gull Cottage, its future duty to hold and lull Captain Gregg's children to sleep? And hypothetically, those children could have been theirs but for the quirk in time. Which also begged the question, would the cradle ever be used again? And if so, by whom? Her thoughts then drifted back to her Christmas dream, the sentiment of its feeling warming her. And, why was the Captain taking so long to appear?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Captain Gregg materialized beside her.

"I hope I didn't cause a stir stowing the cradle."

"No, no you didn't," she replied in a dreamy haze glad that he finally showed up.

The Captain tugged at his ear, as it was now clearly apparent that she remembered most of her dream with him. "I thought it best to return the cradle as soon as possible, Madam."

Carolyn nodded though the Captain caught a glimpse of something he hadn't expected — something he hadn't seen in a long time, a sort of melancholy. Her attempts to hide her expression faltered.

"Yes," she said pulling her robe tighter around her legs, her eyes cast down. "You were right to put the cradle away so soon. After all, it's yours, it doesn't belong to me_." And it never will…_ her heart answered back.

"Well," the spirit smoothed over his beard, "technically, it does belong to you."

Carolyn stared up at him, her jade eyes now flashing. "To me? How could it be mine? If anyone, it belongs to Claymore."

"Never! That clod of a Casanova would sell it before he'd ever make use of it. Really, Madam, I'm sincere when I say the cradle is yours. It is mine too, or ours I should say. I inherited it, and it is mine for use by my wife and children," he stated pacing the floor. Then he stopped. "That is, if you'll permit me to continue to occupy the position of man of the house."

With renewed interest, Carolyn's spirit brightened. She sniffed back the annoying tingling in her nose and produced a modest smile. "There's no question that you're the man of the house. Jonathan's a bit too young, don't you think?"

"I'm glad to hear it," said the seaman with a joyful clap of his hands.

"But," she declared, "I'm not your wife. I suppose my position makes me...mistress of the house."

"By all accounts, Madam, and with all the privileges!"

"Privileges! What sort of privileges?!" she asked laying her chin on her knees.

Captain Gregg leaned on the mantle and wove his fingers together. "We'll discuss those particular terms later, but for now, hear me out. Now correct me if I'm in error, my dear, but when the man of the house..."

"That's you," she pointed at him.

"Yes, me, that' right... and the mistress of the house..."

"That's me," Carolyn indicated herself.

"...Yes, that's you, my dear. That is, if the man and the mistress share at least some measure of… intimacy…" he paused, coming close to her hoping she knew what he meant, "couldn't it be said, hypothetically of course, that these two people are… together?"

"Together?" she repeated, wondering what he was up to.

"Possibly for the long term?" he added. "Or, as you would say in today's vernacular, they would be 'an item'?"

Carolyn's brows shot up. "Captain, are you inferring that we are 'an item'? You and me? Like Antony and Cleopatra? Romeo and Juliet?"

"No! Er, yes! But no, blast it all! Those duos ended in tragedy! We are not tragic. We are unique!"

"So we're not an item then?" Her shoulders slumped. "I think that's tragic."

"Well, not unless you think we are." He did a double take. "What do you mean we're tragic?"

"Well, are we or aren't we?" Her eyes flashed greener, her mood now changed at the invitation of a verbal challenge.

"What by heavens?!" he asked.

"Are we tragic, or an item? Which is it, both or none? One or the other?" she asked.

"Confound it, Madam! Stop this see-saw of words. I, at least, am trying to be serious. I am simply trying to express myself and reasoning with you is like telling a bull not to see red! I'll have you know I worked my fingers to the bone last night over that dream!" The seaman moved to the telescope and peered through the lens into the darkness. Carolyn joined him and deliberately stood in front of the scope so he couldn't see.

"I know you worked hard, and I appreciate that. And that brings to mind that I'd like to discuss the dynamics of the dream." She continued to block his view.

"If you don't mind, Madam. The scope?"

"It's dark out there! There's nothing to see!"

"I'll be the judge of that." The Captain swung the barrel and Carolyn dove under and up the other side. "Blast it, Madam, 'twas not my choosing, nor yours I should think, that time interfered with what should have been. The dream was as I see it with a slight twist."

"And what is it that should have been, Captain?" Carolyn knew what he was trying to say, but she wanted him to verbalize his feelings out loud. She tried again. "What is it that couldn't be, Captain? That should have been?"

The seaman fidgeted in his pockets. "That you would be my wife," he finally said, letting his love for her illuminate his spectral face. Certainly it was one thing to say the words in a dream, but another to say them aloud. And to her.

"Yes," he repeated, "that you would be my wife, and bear my children, that we would live a long and happy life together, here by the sea."

"Captain?" Carolyn moved slowly, her composure dissolving as she neared him. "Are you saying… you really would have asked me to marry you? Not just in the dream?"

"My dear, as I said, the moment I first saw you, I knew you were the one." He gazed down at her. How many times did he have to tell her?

"I-I don't know what to say..." she responded.

"Oh, my dear, that is the real question, isn't it? Yes, would be the answer I'd like to hear from your lips. Would you have accepted a proposal from me?" he queried honestly. Carolyn stepped away to ponder.

"Well, I don't know," she couldn't resist teasing him. "It's funny, I don't quite remember hearing the question that needs an answer. Uh, what was it again?" she asked.

The Captain smiled, the blasted wench was going to make him propose, or something akin to it. And probably on bent knee! That was no problem, of course, but the most confounded thing was that he had never actually thought of what to say should he ever have to propose to anyone! Luckily, he was struck with an idea.

"As you wish then, Madam. If I am to ask for your hand in marriage, and I assume that is what we are discussing, we shall do this hypothetically, but properly."

"Shall I get a pillow?" A smile crossed Carolyn's lips.

"A pillow?! For what?!

"Your knee?" she replied.

"Nonsense! I'll show you how it's to be done." The seaman moved quickly to the French doors, swung them open and beckoned her to join him. Happy to humor him, Carolyn stepped out onto the balcony, and let the cold, chilling blanket of winter surround her.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, shivering in the darkness. "It's freezing out here."

"Look! Look out there, Madam!" he gestured toward the sea. "There is my mistress!"

"Ah, you prefer the more dark, exotic women," she cracked.

The Captain ignored her remark and made a triumphant fist. "'Tis the sea, Madam. My mistress, and oh, how I will miss her! I shall miss the gentle lay of her hands on my ship, the safety I've felt in the warm cradle of her bosom."

"Her bosom?!"

"Aye, and I shall miss her fury as the days grow long, her kindness and generosity in times of need. And, I shall miss her sweet nightingale voice, the very breath of life to my sails, alas, the everlasting song of the sea."

He squinted into the pitch then turned his back on the black ocean and gazed tenderly into the brightness of Carolyn's eyes. "My darling, Carolyn. I shall miss her because I have found you. You, who are more gracious and loving a woman than I could ever know and I have told you so. When my gaze first fell upon you, I saw the beauty of a thousand seas and your smile was ever as sweet and savory as the moon on a tropic day. My dear, your voice alone heralds the whispering song of the sea. I do not need my mistress, if everything I want is in you."

Despite the cold, Carolyn was taken in to him completely. She could feel nothing but the solid beating of her heart as he continued his pledge of love.

"And your eyes, oh, your eyes, my treasure, they are the magnificent jewels which crown the longings of your heart."

Hearing that, Carolyn's prickly goose bumps stood at attention. "Captain," she whispered, "it's not too late to say 'yes', is it?"

His lips grew thin. "I haven't actually asked the question yet."

"Oh," she was apologetic, "Please do. Please! Before I turn into an icicle."

"Yes, of course, Madam..." he cleared his voice against the crash of the waves, "...but these things take time, Madam, and only if you're sure. This is a special moment. A moment which may occur only once, well, maybe twice inone's life."

"Captain! Please…" she urged.

"However, I shall endeavor to hasten my effort," he said, seeing that her lips were turning blue. Carolyn tried her best to listen in the seconds that followed, but she couldn't take the cold any longer.

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"I l-love you, w-will you m-marry me?" she stuttered.

"What?! Madam!" He was cross that she spoiled his moment. "Blast it all, woman!"

"Y-you said before you'd be honored to hear me say it..."

"Well," he growled, "that was before, this is now."

"S-so I'm saying it. I'm asking. Blast it all… never mind! Forget it! I'm... going in!" The wintry night bit into her senses, so intense was the cold that she stepped inside, her body a virtual ice cube. Aiming for her bed to wrap her quilt around her, Carolyn got as far as the telescope when Captain Gregg's voice stopped her.

"Yes. I will marry you," he replied. "Since you've asked so beautifully and with the courage I know you were born with," he added. "However, that is not only the reason I've agreed, the other... is that I love you. I have since the moment I first saw you. And that's my side of it. Take it or leave it. Now or then."

Carolyn's eyes began to sting. Suddenly, all the chilling cold that invaded her body slid to her knees escaping through her feet, leaving a warmth covering every pore of her being. She turned to the Captain and smiled, adoring seeing him in his customary stance, regally handsome as ever as if he were on the deck of his ship. Though both were wise enough to know nothing could ever come of their admissions just then, and knowing full well their follies were just so many words filtering through the air, they at least now knew that the feelings behind their words were very real. The Captain stepped in further seeing that Carolyn's eyes glistened. It was funny, the seaman thought, he didn't mind these tears of hers at all. They seemed sacred to him, to be cherished and remembered forever. He closed the French doors.

"It's enough just to know you would have married me," Carolyn managed.

"I would this very moment if I could, you must know that," he said gently wrapping an afghan from the chair around her.

"I do."

"And how I do, my darling Carolyn," the seaman chuckled lightly. "Words said in the proper order but a century apart. Tell me that they hold the same meaning now as they did in my day, when two people pledge their love to one another?"

"Yes, they do." Carolyn nodded as he stood behind her, his face dangerously close to her ear. He laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"I think then, we can be considered 'an item'."

"You might be right, Captain. It certainly looks as if we are," she agreed.

"Then it's true." He pointed toward the attic. "For all intents and purposes, that child's cradle up there is yours."

"Hypothetically."

"No, my dear, sincerely. Consider the cradle my gift to you, and in it, may you keep all your dreams of what might have been or what will be," he said in a husky voice. Their eyes stayed trapped in a steady gaze until Carolyn spoke.

"Speaking of gifts, Captain, I-I almost forgot," she was warming up nicely. "I have a Christmas gift for you, remember?"

"For me? From my bustling new bride?" _Ah,_ he thought, perhaps he'd be receiving a matching hat to go with his new red scarf from the children, or a new box of cigars, but instead Carolyn pulled an envelope from her desk drawer and handed it to him.

"Merry Christmas, Captain."

"Oh, my, I hadn't expected anything at all," he humored her.

"Really, it's not much, it's sort of a gift certificate for the man of the house."

"A certificate?" He opened the envelope. "No need to worry, Madam, I shall spend my gift wisely."

Carolyn chuckled, "You sounded like Claymore."

"I did just then, didn't I, but I said spend it wisely, not thriftily," he pointed out, "there's a difference!" And after reading the note he was nearly speechless.

"Thank you, my dear. A splendid gift if ever there was," was all he could say.

"You're not disappointed are you? I couldn't think of anything else." Carolyn pulled her afghan tighter.

"Why no, my dear, 'tis a gift of redeemable value which I shall treasure forever. Mind you, I must put some thought into this. I mustn't be too hasty. A steady course is always preferable to a reckless one." He folded the note in half, and tapped it thoughtfully on his chin before slipping it into his side pocket.

"Madam, you have given me an I.O.U. for one entire day alone with you, to do whatever I choose with you, without the children or Martha present. Oooh! Do you know what that means?"

"No, I don't. That's entirely up to you, Captain."

"That coming day shall be a special one indeed!" He rocked on his heels in delight.

Carolyn was pleased he liked his gift. "I hoped you'd like it. I'm giving you a part of me, Captain, no strings attached. Just let me know when and where and I'll make the arrangements."

"Fair enough. I can hardly wait," he grinned clapping his hands together.

"Me either, I'm rather looking forward to our little adventure myself," Carolyn added. "I'm curious as to what you'll come up with."

The Captain couldn't believe his good fortune. Time alone with Carolyn! By jove, he could easily get used to the idea. His eyes brightened as he slapped a hand on the telescope again.

"By the powers, Madam! Since to some degree we are married, or would have been, what do you say to a honeymoon? The feeling of being short-changed in that area leaves me cold and adrift."

"A honeymoon? How on Earth could you manage that? More importantly, what do you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well, my dear, in the end, Earth may not have anything to do with it."

"Oh, I see, there are other powers at work here that I don't know about. Should I?"

"Ah, well...and there are some inexplicable things that cap my curiosity, but I don't have any intention of letting that stop us."

"I didn't think so. And am I to understand that I've lost my privileges as mistress of the house, now that we're an item? This is 'later' you know, and you haven't explained the terms, nor have we discussed the fine points of the dream."

"Madam, the discussion can wait! And be assured that by no means have you lost your privileges! Now you have greater privileges!" he boomed.

"Care to enlighten me as to what they may be, Captain?"

"Mmm. All in good time, Madam." Captain Gregg rubbed his beard concentrating on the honeymoon idea. "Yes, I do have a few favors to cash in. Of course, that's it!" he exclaimed. "If you would do so, Madam, please leave the details to me. I will be in touch."

Carolyn didn't know what was in store for them, but whatever it was, it had to be exciting, how could it not with a dashing, romantic sailor at her side.

"That's fine with me, you take care of the details. You're the man of the house," she emphasized with a smile. "At least for tonight."

"I am indeed," he agreed, gazing into her emerald eyes. "However, my darling, you are the woman who has turned this house into a home." After a moment he dissolved. Carolyn moved to her dresser and picked up the tiny ivory rattle and shook its silvery bell.

"Merry Christmas, Captain! Oh, and by the way," Carolyn commented aloud, "you should wear that Aran sweater more often. And," she rang the bell again, "I could get used to a man helping me with my hat and coat, and opening car doors for me once in a while, you know, and of course, making sure I'm kept warm, that sort of thing." She swung the bottom of the afghan around with her foot as an invisible voice filled the air.

"Duly noted on all accounts, Madam! And I've meant to tell you, my darling, you look delicious in red. Merry Christmas!"

The End


End file.
